No Time For Rest
by Suncatshiny
Summary: When Will Solace takes a job at Stark Industries, he had hoped to leave the adventuring life behind him. However, with a group of superheroes above the office, a disappearing boyfriend and other gods that no-one knows about, the danger just keeps finding him. All Nico wanted to do was break his friend out of Asgardian prison. A plea to delay a prophecy was not what he asked for.


**I don't own Marvel Comics, the MCU, PJO or HOO.**

Projecting optimism when faced with almost certain death was one of Will Solace's many talents. At twelve years old he'd stared down a Sythian Dracnaena with nothing but a disarming smile and a bowless arrow. At fifteen he'd charmed a small battalion of Romans into deserting their leader. Now at twenty-four, things could have only improved.

His watch ticked closer to four o'clock. Will breathed through his nose.

So this would be easy. A cakewalk. All he had to do was prove to a celebrity billionaire genius that he was professional, competent and qualified without being boring.

Oh gods, his hands were shaking.

"So," Nico dragged out the vowel and couldn't look more uncomfortable if he tried. He glanced at the golden-blond from the corner of his eyes, but remained resolutely facing Stark Tower. "Good luck?" Nico usually had a careful way of talking, with considered words and a tone that didn't allow interpretation, but now he sounded unsure and, somehow, strangely encouraging.

Will tried to hum casually but it caught in his throat and came out strangled. Coughing, he tried to regain his composure. "Yeah," he said weakly. His hands were clammy and a wave of nausea came over him.

Nico hesitantly placed a pale, olive hand on the other's shoulder- since his prescribed imprisonment the ashy translucence had all but disappeared. As Will's breathing began to slow, he decided that it had been the right thing to do. "Come on," his voice was soft, "I'll come up with you."

And somehow, Will's nervous smile was the brightest Nico had ever seen.

~o0o~

Will hovered by the arm of a clear, plastic chair, not entirely sure whether he wanted to sit on it. Weighing the awkwardness of standing with the stupidly uncomfortable looking seat, he paused before sitting. He then crossed and uncrossed his legs with the appearance and speed of a crazy person. The secretary- a petite woman with cherry red hair and a sense of _wrong_ that Will couldn't quite place- eyed him from her periphery. Will didn't think a smile would work on her.

Stark Tower's reception- or, at least, Mr Stark's office's reception- was a light, bright space with two walls made entirely of glass. Normally, Will would have been relaxed by the sunlight that streamed through these windows, but with the inherently artificial atmosphere it only made him claustrophobic.

The two remaining walls were painted a violently electric shade of blue, a similar shade to Jason Grace's eyes- _not_ that Will had ever looked. Generic New York panoramas were a series of grey blocks framed in white, tastefully placed in the blue expanse. There were no plants that Will could see- strange for a reception- and the furniture was all clear acrylic.

Nico had dropped him off at the ground floor, ushering him into a futuristic elevator without a fanfare- Nico that is, the elevator was literally made of fanfare. Spotless and round, it rushed him into the clouds at way too many miles per hour whilst blaring a speed metal anthem. It was the most terrifying experience of Will's life and he'd been Camp Half Blood's Volunteer Clarisse Wrangler.

The receptionist's cough brought him back from his daydream; it sounded like she'd been coughing for some time. Will smiled apologetically and- what did you know- her face didn't change from its impassive mask.

"Mr Stark will see you now."

If Will didn't like her before, he certainly didn't now.

~o0o~

After offering to escort Will up to his interview, Nico di Angelo immediately realised quite how late it was. Whilst he could shadow travel to Asgard in an instant and so leave his trip to the last minute, he didn't think that their more warlike residents would like an unannounced, though well known, interloper showing up on their doorstep. If he was lucky, he'd only lose a few limbs.

So he made his excuses, all but shoved the blond into an elevator then tripped over his own feet trying to leave the tower. Yeah, a twenty-four year old in a three piece suit carrying either a large sword or a _really_ long briefcase was going to get some weird looks- even if the suit wasn't embroidered with the souls of the damned.

As he was lying on the floor, regretting his life decisions, a strong hand gripped his forearm and pulled him up. Nico dusted off his jacket, said thanks the way his mama taught him and didn't process that that was Captain _freaking_ America who just touched him until he was two blocks over. Leaning against a brick wall, he collapsed into an alley and cackled so maniacally his father would have been proud. Five minutes passed before he could calm down enough to picture the New Mexico desert.

Shadow travelling was definitely the most exhilarating experience in existence. The only way to describe it was a midnight rollercoaster times steroids. If you could multiply by steroids.

Will didn't understand shadow travel, but being a child of the sun god Nico didn't really expect him to. And besides, Nico didn't understand positivity so it was all even.

Force of habit caused Nico to check his watch even though he was just passing through. Exposed celestial bronze gears turned and flipped, completely rearranging themselves in accordance with the changed time zone, until the display read XIV:NN. Two hours behind New York. Sadly, it would be of no use on Asgard, the land of eternal sunshine. Nobody other than himself knew about it so the Hephaestus Cabin couldn't even think about calculating time differences.

Maybe Asgard didn't have clocks. Did they have hours? Years were roughly the same and he knew that because he'd annoyed an Asgardian prince when he was twelve and stupid.

Good times.

Nico shook his head to banish his tangential thoughts, checked his sword was in place and called upon the power of the rainbow.

~o0o~

The first thing that struck Will upon entering Mr Stark's office was the complete lack of Mr Stark. He didn't know the five stages of grief also applied to frustration.

He also didn't know why he was surprised.

Will prided himself on never making judgements before meeting people and _never_ listening to gossip- his dad was the god of truth after all- but he also knew that Mr Stark was notorious for lateness and you didn't get that kind of rumour for nothing.

Just before the absolute tipping point where Will would begin to leave the office doors behind him opened. His natural reflexes and jumpiness since both wars made him turn around only a hair slower than would be weird. Before he noticed that the person in the doorway wasn't who he expected, he had already leaped to his feet, wiped his palm on his suit trousers and stuck out his hand.

It was the red haired receptionist in front of him and she observed this with suspicious eyes. When she spoke, her voice was inflectionless and triggered a small aspect of Will's powers. This woman was a frequent liar.

"You have quite the CV, Mr Solace. Secretarial experience with everyone from the law firms downtown to Hammertech."

It was his experience in Hammertech that made him first consider that she was complicit in industrial espionage or something. At that company, he'd often gotten these hunches in regards to employees that later turned out to be selling information, a small prod indicating that the person was constantly lying. But this woman... this woman had a gravity, she pulled at his senses, her lies begging for attention- and his lie detecting powers were nowhere near as good as his siblings'. If he got this job, and that was a big if, he'd keep his eyes on her.

The woman prowled forwards, hand ghosting to an imaginary sword. The door closed behind her. "Young as well," pausing she raised an eyebrow. "I'll remind you that lying on a CV is illegal."

Will fought his natural expression to this sort of hypocrisy. Nico said he looked like a disappointed mother hen when this happened- from the raised eyebrow to the tapping foot to the folded arms. He instead opted for a glare. Now _that_ would look impressive. "I know."

She did not look impressed. "Mr Stark has given you the job."

Oh. Well then.

"But don't expect to see him, Solace. The only reason you're here is to keep everyone else off his back. You're a placeholder, nothing more." She turned on her stiletto heels and stalked out of the room.

No, Will did not like her at all.

~o0o~

"He seemed nice enough."

It was times like these when Loki regretted ever introducing the Worldwalker to Asgard. It had given the other access to everything, even Loki's own cell deep below the golden city. "Though quite simpleminded," he said, projecting the persona he had forced upon himself. He moulded his features into those of calm arrogance, in preparation for facing his visitor.

Nico hummed, not committing to an answer.

 _He was really going to stay?_

The beginning of panic began to grip the god- he needed to send his visitor away _now_ , before old memories crept to the surface. If the Worldwalker only knew what he was risking by coming here.

Loki turned, forcing one last dash of madness into a silver, sharklike grin. The devil was in the details.

Eerie emerald eyes scanned the half-blood that had changed so much, trying to name every thought that crossed the other's mind, every expression that painted itself on his face. After a long beat, a true smile slowly overtook the false one, white and expressive, as he recognized how much his self-imposed charge had grown. Last he'd layed eyes on the demigod- six, seven years ago?- he'd been diminutive, always craning his neck just so he could hold conversation. His eyes had been a flat, dark brown and his skin sallow.

Though as the mortal had grown in both age and power, his eyes took on midnight blue undertones, only visible when the light hit them- and, if Loki remembered correctly, those were his fathers eyes. The roundness to his face had also melted away, leaving sharp angles and a strong bone structure.

Warily, he eyed the sword at the younger man's side, black and forged of Stygian Iron, tempered in the unforgiving waters of the River Lethe. It had been altered recently- the handle had been lengthened and bound in black leather and the pommel was now polished bronze rather than the previous ostentatious skull.

But Loki had always been quite sentimental, so he dismissed appearances and focused on the quiet curiosity, the careful cunning, behind those eyes. Oh, if he'd the right to feel pride...

"Has it truly been so long, son of Hades?" Wiping any feeling from his face, Loki carefully crafted his tone. Fairly neutral, an understated edge, hinting at how immortals felt time differently. However, the warm smile was more easily dismissed than the lingering tenderness.

"Drop the voice," Nico's own voice had gotten deeper through the years and his hiss had more than a small promise of danger. "You know why I'm here and it's not for your lies."

And so Loki did abandon his façade. "You need to leave Nico." But his words went ignored- and that hurt more than anything he'd ever felt. And he didn't know why.

"I know what you did."

Spin the story, if he presented his own words before Nico's, there would be a chance he would leave. _Yes, I tried to subjugate your world. Yes, I killed hundreds for my own gain. Yes, I-_ the words would not come out and it was too late and everything he's worked for was breaking because of one singular mortal. Was this panic? He'd always been able to rely on his words and now he couldn't even open his mouth.

Nico continued. "And I'm not leaving until you tell me why."

 _What do you want to hear?_

"I can stay here all day, Loki. Fatal flaw remember?" There was now a hint of desperation- hope that Loki wasn't too far gone. Sometimes, Loki hated being able to read people. Seeing someone torn between helping you and wanting to kill you played Hel with his mind.

"You don't even know do you?" Nico's voice broke halfway though his sentence and he jabbed a long, thin finger at the caged god. "You listen here, Loki, your war has caused so many rifts. Rifts between people you promised to protect. Your betrayal has reached beyond New York, beyond America even."

"Mycroft and Sherrinford aren't talking again- they blame each-other for not seeing through you. The Doctor regenerated- it's _killing_ him that he couldn't protect them from you. Emrys thought the attack signalled Arthur's return- imagine how he felt when it was you. And I wasn't even going to mention the Institute- they were forbidden from fighting you!" Here Nico took a ragged breath. "The Kanes, the Winchesters, even _Snicket_ \- But... but you probably don't care, do you? You knew this would happen and still you went ahead with your stupid plan- I didn't see you for _five years_!" He stopped again before throwing his hands in the air- he'd always used his hands to talk, ever since he was twelve. " _Gods_! It wasn't even a plan was it?"

The god took this as his moment to speak. Since Nico had walked in, he'd been forced to give up on the madman he'd presented to everyone else. Loki's only choice was to drive him away with sheer callousness. "Not an entire one," he conceded- and that _was_ true. There were way too many variables to have a concrete, foolproof plan to thwart the Mad Titan, so it was- appropriately- very loose.

 _But of course_ , Loki thought bitterly, _everyone thought everything was planned_. What else could a lying schemer do? And while that sentiment _had_ proven helpful for a while- some accusations had inspired later spectacles- it wasn't too great in the long run. In fact, it had somehow made the Aesir trust him _less_.

"My plan was, in essence, quite mercurial." Loki continued with a grimace- honesty was seeming to be the only option. Nico had always been a practical person, he would understand why Loki needed to be in prison. Loki breathed sharply, bracing himself for... he didn't know what for. "I'm sure you understand prophecy," he began.

"Living with Will, I've got a general idea," Nico said without humour. From experience, prophecies were never good news and never avoidable.

Loki didn't know who _Will_ was, but he wasn't important for the moment. Though if this person had a knowledge of prophecy, perhaps he could be useful later. "It is known that I will cause Ragnarok. I know not when, but it will happen."

"So you locked yourself up to prevent it," the demigod spat. "Checks out."

"You know as well as I that the future cannot be thwarted." Loki breathed again- perhaps the blunt approach wasn't the best choice, it was incredibly time consuming. "I sought merely to delay it. Delay it enough to prepare _you_."

 **So this is another story I'm not going to finish, I just wanted to get down my ideas. The story would be Loki and Nico delaying a prophecy with Will trying to convince them of the ramifications of that and the Avengers trying to figure out what's going on (and eventually teaming up).**

 **I kind of think that Loki would take in strays and if he found Nico age 12, they'd both hit it off with their sass and daddy issues. His mythical children would be kids that Asgard thought were weird.**

 **Clint wouldn't be an antagonist like he is in most stories, he'd be more like the Fractionverse's walking disaster. I think he would actually sort of empathise with Loki and hide his feelings with increasingly ridiculous stories of his misadventures (like 'Once I broke into a high security prison in flip-flops then broke out with nothing but a dollar bill and a pillowcase" level stupid).**

 **I also had a scene blocked out starring Malcolm from the Athena Cabin when Tony Stark and Clint check out Camp Half-Blood. He's kind of Luna Lovegood-y and a little bit of What-Loki-Would-Have-Been:**

"We thought we gave off odours that monsters could detect. Well, I thought that it made no sense that an odour could be relayed across phones and computers and stuff, so obviously the demigod stink must be-"

"A wave," Tony and Clint finished. Tony's like WTF, Clint sticks his tongue out or something.

Malcolm paused. "Yeah. Some kind of electromagnetic wave," he paused again. "Hey, wait here."

"So this is Maxwell-" Produces large disc-like device.

"He names all his toys." Will

"He should be able to detect demigods using the wave frequency I've managed to isolate, kind of like a satyr or monster. I haven't calculated his accuracy yet but... wait," Number crunch. "About, maybe, eighty-eight point two-ish percent. I think.

"Oh, also! You know that monsters are often able to identify our parentage, before we're even claimed? Well, perhaps different demigods produce slightly different frequencies. I mean, I don't think I have the equipment to detect to that degree of accuracy, but it's a start." Pause, "oh, wait, guests. Hi, Malcolm, head of Cabin 6." He rattled off without taking a breath.

"I think you dropped some connectives on the way in." Tony

"What's Cabin 6?" Steve

Will explains.

"Son of Athena, huh. Where's the rest of them at?" Clint

"Oh, they're out hitting each-other with sticks, trying to prove their worth or whatever."

"Why aren't they here? I'm pretty sure this is more important."

Insert sarcasm- "Well, it's all great being smart and all, but the Athena cabin has a catch. We're the most arrogant, self-important jerks you'll ever meet."

"You'd fit right in," Clint to Tony.

"We think that our intelligence is faultless and that we can answer every question. Obviously, we can't but we use it as an excuse to slack off classes and give up the pursuit of knowledge because if it were important, we'd already know it. That's why they're never here, always training." Gets a bit angry, kick a table or whatever, "They belittle those who struggle with or even enjoy learning. They miss the entire point of having a gift." Pause. "Oh wait, you're the Avengers."

"And, boom."

"Just a thought, Mr Barton. You should avoid Cabin 7- Apollo's kids. They're either jealous or starstruck." Malcolm turned to Tony with wide eyes. "Oh, hi Mr Stark! Can I kidnap you... temporarily of course."

"Sure, I've a mind to kidnap you anyway, kid."

 **And if anyone wants to adopt this story, you're welcome to.**


End file.
